


Criminals and Liars

by TableNumbers



Category: Greek and Roman Mythology, Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: Gen, Percy is a God, fabricated god that I came up with
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-06
Updated: 2018-05-05
Packaged: 2019-05-02 20:46:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14553201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TableNumbers/pseuds/TableNumbers
Summary: "Well the criminals and liarsKeep them in your cells as a privilege of mine"-- "Antichrist", The 1975Percy is the god of loyalty and betrayal. This might follow the actual books, who knows?





	Criminals and Liars

**Author's Note:**

> Wooo boy. I haven't written in so long, I have almost never posted anything worth keeping. This is something I wrote a lonngggg ass time ago, and never wanted to post. However if I do, I might actually care enough to keep writing, and relearn something I once loved to do. Who knows?   
> I can't promise this will be updated, and I can definitely not promise it is good, but please leave a comment if you so choose!

Greece was not into killing humans as sacrifices for bad omens. Animals where the only things that suffered at the hands of priests.

No, humans were only killed at the hands of those whose knives were soaked in the blood of the martyrs who stood for loyalty misplaced. Perseus was there for those murders. He was there when governments who were once allies, constructed armies to bring the other to the ground. He was there when children started walking, hung on their parents for support.

He was there when loyalties were made and he was there for their sad, bitter ends. He didn’t have a favorite, but creating loyalties was happy for both parties. Happy was nice. But happy wasn’t as satisfying as ripping cities down from men fighting men and turning houses into rubble. Loyalty is a sweet and loving relationship. Betrayal is a one-night stand with someone whose face is fading.

Now, don’t get him wrong. He was not an evil god. He was as fair as the people who used his words were. When people were loyal, he was a dog. Jumping and running around. His face was happy, smile adorning his face. He looked like Demeter in spring. Something important returned to him, made him whole.

When betrayal was afoot, he still walked around with a smile. There was a stark difference between the two grins however. This was the smile of a mad man. The smile of a parent who is keeping face for their child, when all they want to do it break down. The smile of someone who was so close to breaking, that they feel the need to try harder to stay in one piece. 

The Greeks paid close attention to many minor gods, but Perseus had a very close place in their hearts, because betrayal and loyalty lived in all households. He was depicted as a dog when loyalty was plenty and a rat when betrayal ruled. Rats rooted and dug and cracked the surface of everything, such as betrayal. 

Perseus found himself near households many times, more so than when he found himself at the judgement of the aforementioned governments. Sons meeting other people's sons. Running off together in the face of arranged marriages. Which in itself is both loyalty and betrayal. Husbands unfaithful to their wives. Wives unfaithful to their husbands. These family tragedies are trivial to a god who planted the seed in which they blossomed. 

He was at one of those home today. Hestia joined him, as she usually did. Goddess of home and hearth had a few things to say about unfaithfulness to family. Her eyes flicker forlorn, as she look at Perseus.

“Ready?” He asked her, taking her hand. They had been friends for a incredibly long time. Years etched themselves into her face, and for but a brief moment, she looked her age. Wrinkles and age marks exposed as Hestia came to terms with how the day was going to end. Her body was betraying how she actually felt, and Perseus felt it deep within his bones. There's was not a friendship of words.

“No. What do we do? Break up the family?”

“I have no choice Hestia. He will kill both of them.” 

“It is all Zeus’s fault. He should deal with it.” Hestia complained softly, looking at the door of the house.

“But he won’t. All he cares about is making the wife un-loyal to her husband. Then he has his fun and leaves me to pick up the pieces. Which is what I am doing.”

“By breaking it more.”

“By breaking it beyond mending. These people loved each other at one point. They will want what is best, and break off the marriage.”

Hestia harrumphed, but stood aside to allow Perseus in first. He smiled at her, unbroken.

When they walked in, all Perseus could see was the obviously love that went into caring for the home. Everything was in it’s place, but nothing was pristine. It had a homely feel that leaked from many of the lower class of Greece, making Perseus feel at ease, and comfortable. Red hot shame coursed through the immortal tissue in his body. He didn’t want to this. This family didn’t deserve any of this.

You could almost hear the hammer being pulled back. Ready to crack and claim his very composed self. He felt a rodent digging and pulling to fight for dominance. This act wasn’t in mischief however. It was to fix what he could, and protect the wife and her unborn. Maybe he was still a dog at this time. 

They walked through the house, looking for any indication that there was someone still living here. There was of course. Murdering a spouse is, although a betrayal of almost the highest degree, wasn’t anything Perseus had up his sleeve recently, unless necessary. Maybe another day then.

“Is there a room through this door?” Hestia asked, and Perseus nodded. He opened it slowly, and there they were. The happy couple were sleeping, with the man on his side, cuddling the women, whose belly was just beginning to jut out. A moment of celebration, it would have been their first. But alas, nothing ever went right for the women that Zeus spends his time with.

“It’s not his, is it?” Hestia asked, her voice sounding like the twelve year old she currently looked like; confused and scared.

“I don’t know Hestia, what do you think?” Perseus hissed at her, annoyed with her childish ways. The fire in her eyes blazed a little hotter.

“There is no need to get angry at me!” She growled, but fell silent as the god’s head twisted unnaturally. Waiting for her to continue. Waiting for her to say something that will give him a reason to make everything fall on top of her. For a minor god, he was terrifying. So much power behind those youthful eyes. So many tragedies and sins he was forced to commit, and possibly even enjoyed it. It made her shudder in fear. He could rip apart the very fabric of everything she stood for. 

“No need for me to get mad at you for what? Yelling at me for doing my job? Saving this women from death?” He was condescending. “You know that I will come back.” It frustrated Hestia to no end, but she kept her mouth shut. When he was like this, it didn’t even matter that they were friends. He would end her.

She motioned at him to keep going, and finish what they were there for. The goddess hated this part, physically hurt her entire being. 

From a cloth satchel that hung from his shoulder, Perseus grabbed a piece of parchment. A physical copy of their promises to each other. The paper was to be clean and blemishless, but there was a cut where the woman’s name should have been. He should have burned the document altogether. Ended the relationship right then and there. Maybe some naïve part of him thought that they could fix their marriage. It has happened before.

Perseus pulled out a kalamos, the tip sharpened. He stared at it for a minute. Maybe he could just not do anything here. Just leave them. The husband would figure out, but unless Perseus decreed it, he couldn’t kill his wife. 

No. He could feel his foundation cracking. He needed to end the marriage before they catch him on a bad day. 

He raised the pen, and regarded the husband’s name for a second. Only one, because he knew that Hestia wanted it to be over. It would be like a dagger cut in her chest. Perseus made two quick, sword-like slashes in the parchment. What seemed to be an insignificant cut, ripped the paper fully, and the name fluttered to the ground. It was done now. Nothing else was left for him to do now but leave and hope that he never had to deal with these people anymore.


End file.
